


solitude

by scionavarielle



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, M/M, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4399409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scionavarielle/pseuds/scionavarielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(n) a state of seclusion or isolation</p>
            </blockquote>





	solitude

**Author's Note:**

> a filled for [raniamich](http://raniamich.tumblr.com/) on my[tumblr](http://amarielrandomwords.tumblr.com/)
> 
> she wants wobert!angst so here it is :) have fun (i suppose)

**solitude**

(n) a state of seclusion or isolation

Sometimes Wojtek wonders if _this_ is how it feels like when you thought you had something only to find it’s nothing but a dream. Maybe Wojtek is just being a _bit_ melancholy. After all, it’s not every day your death is coming closer right?

His phone’s vibrating interrupts his thoughts. There’s _Lewy’s_ name on screen and he clicks the green button. Not soon after he is greeted by “Where are you?” from the other line.

Funny how Wojtek thinks that he knows _this_ must be the _time_. “Lewy,” he manages to sound firm, hiding all the _pain_ that’s spreading through his entire body.

“The mission is a success, where are you?”

Oh yes, mission. He remembers clearly why he’s there now, in a secluded garden, seated on the bench with a big wound on his stomach – a great _ending_ for someone _like_ him.

“Somewhere,” he vaguely remembers how he could even get to the garden. He doesn’t even know where he is precisely. From the look of it, he might be lost, or maybe he just couldn’t think straight anymore.

Staring at the star night sky, he smiles. “Under the stars,” he continues softly.

“Wojtek! WOJTEK!” He could hear Lewy shouts his name, could hear his own coughing, and some sirens on the background. “Don’t turn off the phone, we’re trying to locate you. Just hold on.”

Wojtek tries – oh he does try to hold on, but his body is weakening and everything seems blurry right now. His right hand, which was pressing the wound just now, is trying to grab something from his pocket. Chuckling slightly at the now almost empty box of cigarettes, he takes out the last one. Even this could probably another _sign_. He lights his lighter and takes a smoke.

He smiles at the full moon staring back at him. He could hear Lewy’s voice in the background warning him about the dangers of smoking and it feels nostalgic. “Lewy,” he finally speaks again, a little bit trembling. “I’m smoking, don’t be mad at me, will you?”

“No I won’t but if you stop talking to me, I will.”

Wojtek coughs again, this time followed by blood. His fingers clamp the cigarette. Inhaling the last one he could have that day (and probably _the very last_ ). Exhaling the smoke to the air, he smiles at the moon. “Lewy, I’m sorry –“

He never finishes his sentence for slowly his conscious is drifting away. His phone is falling down to the ground, shattering the phone into pieces. His hand, once lively, now laid down. The wind blows the fire on his cigarette – like a metaphor of putting out a light from someone’s candle of life.

_“I’m sorry I can’t fulfill our promise **again**_.”

 


End file.
